


The Unravelling of Edward Cullen

by orphan_account



Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Edward and protagonist don't enter a weird codependent not love, No Bella, Twilight Parody, do not read this twihards, idfk what I'm doing, rewriting twilight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2020-07-11 17:11:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19931587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Ok, so I wanted to create an un-fan fiction. TWILIGHT IS ACTUALLY A BITTER ENEMY. This is a more realistic version of twilight, where I? you? Bella? reacts like a normal person. This is probably going to be even more fast paced than usual, and also not meant to offend anyone. I am not critiquing you for liking Twilight. I don't understand it, but you do you. Anyway, read on if you want to.FYI: The first bit will be copied and pasted, and then edited, because there's no reason to do any major rewrites up to the  point of Bella becoming magically popular. I won't subject you to any major atrocities. (hopefully)





	1. New Schools and No Friends

**Author's Note:**

> I will be copying and pasting the book with edits and tweaks and cutting out details until it gets to the point where I can rewrite it. Also not starting from the very beginning. This saves me lots of time. (it didn't) I tried to cut out as much excess detail as possible, just giving you the very basics. Meyer isn't a lot of things, but she knows how to add a shit ton of detail. Make of that what you will. She also doesn't have that fast- pacedness to her writing, so there might be a huge difference. Try to see where hers stops and mine starts.
> 
> Ok I never actually finished this. It is not and will never be done. I have but in in the metaphorical bin. I would orphan it except I have decided to let you use this cringefest as blackmail against me

It's a four-hour flight from Phoenix to Seattle, another hour in a small plane up to Port Angeles, and then an hour drive back down to Forks. Flying doesn't bother me; the hour in the car with Charlie, though, I was a little worried about. Charlie had really been fairly nice about the whole thing. He seemed genuinely pleased that I was coming to live with him for the first time with any degree of permanence. He'd already gotten me registered for high school and was going to help me get a car.

But it was gonna be awkward with Charlie. Neither of us was what anyone would call talkative, and I had the sinking suspicion that more often than not. I knew he was more than a little confused by my decision — I hadn't made a secret of my distaste for Forks. When I landed in Port Angeles, it was raining. I didn't see it as an omen — just unavoidable. I'd already said my goodbyes to the sun.

Charlie was waiting for me with the cruiser. This I was expecting, too. Charlie is Police Chief Swan to the good people of Forks. My primary motivation behind buying a car, despite the scarcity of my funds, was that I refused to be driven around town in a car with red and blue lights on top. Nothing slows down traffic like a cop. Charlie gave me an awkward, one-armed hug when I stumbled my way off the plane.

"It's good to see you, Bella," he said, smiling as he automatically caught and steadied me.

"You haven't changed much. How's Renée?"

"Mom's fine. It's good to see you, too, Dad." I wasn't allowed to call him Charlie to his face.

I had only a few bags. Most of my Arizona clothes were too permeable for Washington. My mom and I had pooled our resources to supplement my winter wardrobe, but it was still scanty. It all fit easily into the trunk of the cruiser.

"I found a good car for you, really cheap," he announced when we were strapped in.

"How cheap is cheap?" After all, that was the part I couldn't compromise on.

"Well, honey, I kind of already bought it for you. As a homecoming gift." Charlie peeked sideways at me with a hopeful expression. Wow. Free.

"You didn't need to do that, Dad. I was going to buy myself a car."

"I don't mind. I want you to be happy here." He was looking ahead at the road when he said this.

"That's really nice, Dad. Thanks. I really appreciate it." No need to add that my being happy in Forks is an impossibility. He didn't need to suffer along with me. 

But I never looked a free truck in the mouth.

"Well, now, you're welcome," he mumbled, embarrassed by my thanks.

Eventually we made it to Charlie's. He still lived in the small, two-bedroom house that he'd bought with my mother in the early days of their marriage. Those were the only kind of days their marriage had — the early ones. There, parked on the street in front of the house that never changed, was my new — well, new to me — truck. It was a faded red color, with big, rounded fenders and a bulbous cab.

"Wow, Dad, I love it! Thanks!" Now my horrific day tomorrow would be just that much less dreadful. I wouldn't be faced with the choice of either walking two miles in the rain to school or accepting a ride in the Chief's cruiser.

"I'm glad you like it," Charlie said gruffly, embarrassed again.

It took only one trip to get all my stuff upstairs. I got the west bedroom that faced out over the front yard. The room was familiar; it had been belonged to me since I was born. There was only one small bathroom at the top of the stairs, which I would have to share with Charlie. I was trying not to dwell too much on that fact. One of the best things about Charlie is he doesn't hover, giving me time to think about my current situation.

Forks High School had a frightening total of only three hundred and fifty-seven — now fifty-eight — students. All of the kids here had grown up together. I would be the new girl from the big city, a curiosity, a freak. Maybe, if I looked like a girl from Phoenix should, I could work this to my advantage. But physically, I'd never fit in anywhere. I should be tan, sporty, blond — a volleyball player, or a cheerleader. Instead, I didn't have the necessary hand-eye coordination to play sports without humiliating myself — and harming both myself and anyone else who stood too close.

I didn't sleep well that night. The constant whooshing of the rain and wind across the roof wouldn't fade into the background. I pulled the faded old quilt over my head, and later added the pillow, too. But I couldn't fall asleep until after midnight, when the rain finally settled into a quieter drizzle. Thick fog was all I could see out my window in the morning, and I could feel the claustrophobia creeping up on me. You could never see the sky here; it was like a cage.

Breakfast with Charlie was a quiet event. He wished me good luck at school. I thanked him, knowing his hope was wasted. Good luck tended to avoid me. Charlie left first, off to the police station that was his wife and family. It was impossible, being in this house, not to realize that Charlie had never gotten over my mom. It made me uncomfortable. I didn't want to be too early to school, but I couldn't stay in the house anymore.

I donned my jacket — which had the feel of a biohazard suit — and headed out into the rain. It was just drizzling still, not enough to soak me through immediately as I reached for the house key that was always hidden under the eaves by the door, and locked up.

The sloshing of my new waterproof boots was unnerving. I couldn't pause and admire my truck again as I wanted; I was in a hurry to get out of the pouring rain. Inside the truck, it was nice and dry. Either Billy or Charlie had obviously cleaned it up, but the tan upholstered seats still smelled faintly of tobacco, gasoline, and peppermint.

The engine started quickly, to my relief, but loudly, roaring to life and then idling at top volume. Well, a truck this old was bound to have a flaw. The antique radio worked, a plus that I hadn't expected. Finding the school wasn't difficult, though I'd never been there before. The school was, like most other things, just off the highway.

It was not obvious that it was a school; only the sign, which declared it to be the Forks High School, made me stop. It looked like a collection of matching houses, built with maroon-colored bricks. There were so many trees and shrubs I couldn't see its size at first. I parked in front of the first building, which had a small sign over the door reading front office. No one else was parked there, so I was sure it was off limits, but I decided I would get directions inside instead of circling around in the rain like an idiot.

I stepped unwillingly out of the toasty truck cab and walked down a little stone path lined with dark hedges. Inside, it was brightly lit, and warmer than I'd hoped. The office was small; a little waiting area with padded folding chairs. There were three desks behind the counter, one of which was manned by a large, red-haired woman wearing glasses. The red-haired woman looked up.

"Can I help you?" "I'm Bella Swan," I informed her, and saw the immediate awareness light her eyes. I was expected, a topic of gossip no doubt. Daughter of the Chief's flighty ex-wife, come home at last.

"Of course, I have your schedule right here, and a map of the school." She brought several sheets to the counter. She went through my classes for me, highlighting the best route to each on the map, and gave me a slip to have each teacher sign, which I was to bring back at the end of the day.

When I went back out to my truck, other students were starting to arrive. I was glad to see that most of the cars were older like mine, nothing flashy. The nicest car here was a shiny Volvo, and it stood out. Still, I cut the engine as soon as I was in a spot, so that the thunderous volume wouldn't draw attention to me.

I looked at the map in the truck, trying to memorize it now; hopefully I wouldn't have to walk around with it stuck in front of my nose all day. I stuffed everything in my bag, slung the strap over my shoulder, and sucked in a huge breath. I can do this, I lied to myself feebly. No one was going to bite me. I finally exhaled and stepped out of the truck. I kept my face pulled back into my hood as I walked to the sidewalk, crowded with teenagers. My plain black jacket didn't stand out, I noticed with relief. Once I got around the cafeteria, building three was easy to spot.

A large black "3" was painted on a white square on the east corner. I walked through the door, my anxiety mounting as i entered the small room. I took the slip up to the teacher, a tall, balding man whose desk had a nameplate identifying him as Mr. Mason. He gawked at me when he saw my name — not an encouraging response — and of course I flushed tomato red. But at least he sent me to an empty desk at the back without introducing me to the class. It was harder for my new classmates to stare at me in the back, but somehow, they managed. I kept my eyes down on the reading list the teacher had given me until the bell mercifully rang.

The next classes were just the same, everyone staring at me unabashedly when they thought I wasn't looking. I was the latest carnival attraction, on display for everyone to see. By lunchtime, I was fed up with the constant glares of my so called "peers". This was ridiculous. 

I walked to the cafeteria with my hood up and my eyes on the floor, praying nobody would see me. Surprisingly, the cafeteria had a few empty tables, with seats clustered around the groups of friends that represented their respective cliques. I took a seat at an empty table, ignoring what seemed like thousands of faces staring at me. 

Suddenly, the stares all subsided. I thanked whatever higher power was looking down on me and looked up at where their gaze was now directed. Five students, unnaturally pale, were walking across the room to a corner table, one of the few left completely empty. They sat down, not talking, or even eating, just sitting there. It was a little creepy. They all looked like they had been chiseled out of marble, ad they weren't even eating. I wondered if it was some bizarre mineral deficiency, or maybe a diet. They could all be models. There were three guys. One of them, by far the bulkiest, had curly, dark brown hair. The second was blonde, but he was taller and skinnier, although he still had defined muscles. They both looked like they had graduated. I wondered if they even went to the school. The last still looked like he could be in high school, or maybe a freshman at college. He was a brunette, and looked out of the three to be the least interested in the food they were all staring down at. There were two girls, too, one of them having blonde curls, tall, with a figure that you might see on Vogue magazine, the other with short-cropped black hair, shorter and thinner, but still pretty. All of them were almost unnaturally beautiful.

Suddenly, the shorter of the two girls stood up from the table, walked over the trash can, and dumped the entire tray of food in the trash can. Why even bother getting food if you weren't going to eat it? She walked back to the table, as if this event happened on a daily basis, and sat back down. I would have continued to question these people's motives for dumping their uneaten food in the trash, exempting the fact that once of them was staring at me. He was the brunette, the one who didn't look like he should have graduated years ago. I decided to return the stare, and he seemed to be almost smiling at me. I broke the stare promptly and redirected my gaze at my food, where it stayed for the duration of lunchtime. 

It looked like I had biology next, so I pulled out the map and followed the route to the classroom. At least it gave me something to focus on other than the paranoia of being constantly observed. I opened the door to the classroom. It looked like everyone else had found a seat. And of course, the one seat that hadn't been filled was next to the mineral-deficient model. I gave my slip to the teacher, but I could feel his stare piercing into my back. Everyone was staring at me, why should he be any different? There must have been a reason everyone was staring at him and his friends, too. Maybe that was a sign to avoid him. Granted, sitting next to him wasn't going to make anything better, but it wasn't like I had a choice. 

I glared at him as I sat down, and his expression was one hair short of growling at me. As the lesson droned on, he sat on the edge of his seat, and I wondered if there was something wrong with me. I tried to ignore the way that his fists were clenched, or the fact that this person who evidently hated me was sitting centimetres away from my throat. Finally, the bell rang, and he sprinted out of the classroom before anyone else had even gotten up. 

I was confused. Depressed, even. The one person who knows what I'm going through can't even sit next to me for a single god damn lesson. I hoped to god that he was like that with everyone, that he was just the school weirdo. But somehow in the pit of my stomach I knew that it was something more than that.

P.E was uneventful, other than public humiliation from my lack of sport expertise. Finally, the day ended. Now all I had to do was turn in the slip. 

To my surprise, weirdo was in the reception. I didn't intend to eavesdrop, but he was practically screaming it out that he demanded to change his Biology class. Good grief. I wanted to go over there and slap him, but I wasn't in the mood to get a detention, so I settled for the next best thing. I walked up, slammed the paper down on the desk, and walked away. I didn't bother turning around. I knew his eyes would just be glaring at me, full of hatred and whatever else it was that made him so fucking mad at me. I drove home with tears blurring my vision, wondering if everyone else felt the same way.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a time skip in the book, and there are some important-ish details. Again, if you get the basic gist of the story, you can probably skip this. Your favorite sparkly vampire stalker plays hookie, comes back to school, decides he doesn't hate you and saves you from a car accident. You can skip this one too if you know the basics. Also, you don't know any of the info your magical pop-up friends gave you, so more exitement!
> 
> -Still in progress-

For some strange reason, weirdo didn't show up at all that day. Thank god. I didn't look at his seat in Biology, didn't wonder where he was, didn't care. And finally, after almost a week, the stares subsided. I decided that if I didn't want to live in complete isolation, now was the time to act. I decided to walk up to a boy that didn't appear to be talking to anyone. He had blonde hair that was gelled to the point of it being stationery, and I wondered if this was a good idea. Still, I persisted. 

"Hi."

"Hello. Aren't you Bella Swan? That girl from Phoenix?" Of course.

"Yep."

"Oh, cool. I'm Mike." I didn't know how to respond to that. Should I just outright ask to walk with him? Am I being socially awkward? Finally, after somewhat of an awkward pause, I managed to say something.

"Nice to meet you, Mike. Um, you're in my P.E class, right? Do you wanna walk together?" I couldn't read the resulting expression on his face.

"Sure!" 

After walking to class with him, I discovered that Mike was actually one of those bubbly, enthusiastic types that was an optimist about pretty much everything. I could use a little optimism right now. P.E went as usual, people never passing me the ball (purely because they finally got the hint Phoenix does not automatically equal sporty). Finally, the day was over, and I drove back home with something that might've resembled a smile on my face. 

The next day was completely different to any other. For one thing, Mike was now a constant companion, always chittering on about classes or homework assignments or school gossip, which made me feel like I was a person again. For another, it was snowing, and snowballs were a constant threat when expoced to the cold outdoors. Then there was the fact I had a table to sit at at lunch where my only conversation wasn't with n apple on my tray. And surprisingly, the weirdo had returned.

"Hey, Mike?"

"Yea?"

"Who is that over there?"

"Oh. That's Edward Cullen. Bit of a weirdo, if you ask me. As a matter of fact, the whole family is a bit... strange."

"How so?"

"Well for one thing, they never talk to anyone else. It's not like people haven't tried or anything, they just purposefully shut people out. For another, they never eat anything. And they're so pale..."

I looked at Edward, wondering why he was back, and why he had left in the first place. He looked back. This time, though, it wasn't a glare. I didn't know why he wasn't glaring at me, but I was relieved to know that everything just might have been working out after all. Still, I was skeptical of the fact that everything might've actually been alright. 

I wasn't looking forward to Biology any more that I would look forward to bathing in a pile of worms. In fact, given a choice of the two, I might actually prefer the latter. I sat down in my seat warily, waiting for the teacher's instructions. I couldn't help noticing that he was still balanced precariously on the edge of his seat.

"Hello. My name is Edward Cullen. I didn't get to introduce myself last week. You must be Bella Swan." he didn't appear to be saying it with any malicious tone, but the fact he was talking to me now made it suspicious. 

"You had multiple chances to introduce yourself last week, and you were too focused on giving me the death stare." I wasn't going to cut corners any longer. He didn't respond. Of course, the Biology teacher had to pick a lab activity today of all days. Sorting onion cells into phases of mitosis... I'd done this already. Oh well.

"Partners?" 

"You ask that as if I have a choice."

"Ladies first." he said, ignoring any and all previous statements. I hesitated to take the microscope.

"I can go first, if you want me to."

"I'm not incompetent. I can do it." I was unnerved by the sudden interest he had in politeness, when clearly he hadn't cared about it before.

"This one is prophase." he looked a little startled, for some strange reason.

"May I?" I slid the microscope in his direction. He nodded, and fit the next slid into the microscope.

"Anaphase."

"Can I check?"

He pushed the microscope in my direction, and our hands touched momentarily. It was like he had been bathing in ice water. I shuddered and checked it. He was right. I fitted the next slide in. 

"Interphase."

He checked it. 

"You're right."

We finished off the rest of the slides with ease, and sat in an awkward silence for a while.

"Too bad about the snow, isn't it."

"Not really."

"You don't like the cold. Or the wet."

"How did you know that?" he just stared at me, not bothering to answer.

"Why are you staying in Forks, then?"

"You don't need to know. So I'm not telling you." 

"You put on a good show. But I'd bet that you're suffering more than anyone can see."

"Why does it matter to you? Why are you acting so weird?"

"That's a very good question. Am I annoying you?"

"Yes." he looked a bit puzzled.

"I find you very hard to read."

"Good. I'd hate it if it were otherwise ." and with that, I promptly began ignoring him, even though it was harder to do that ignoring someone would usually be. He had the kind of face you'd see in a movie, but he was back to leaning on the very edge of his seat. Talk about mixed messages. Finally after what seemed like ages of monotony, the bell rang, and I began to walk with Mike through the corridors to our next class. 

"That was absolutely awful. They all looked exactly the same. You're lucky you had Cullen as your partner."

"I didn't have any trouble with it. Then again, I've done the lab before."

"Cullen seemed more... friendly today. 

"Yeah. Wonder what was with him earlier."

We arrived at the gym, and hurriedly shut the doors to get out of the swirling snow. Mike was on my team this lesson, and everyone stepped up to make sure that by no means the ball fell into my hands. I fell into my head, and before I knew it the bell had rang and I was already in the car. I adjusted the rearview mirror and saw Cullen watching me intently, unbothered by the snowy afternoon. I couldn't help looking back, before I came to my senses and drove away to home, which meant a bowl of hot soup and a warm bed to protect me from the icy weather going on just outside the walls of the tiny house.


	3. Sorry

Hello, dear reader.

Tis i, flaky. Flaky is in the name, so hopefully this isn't too surprising. I have tried, but I cannot rewrite this. I have no inspiration, only despair. So I have decided to stop. Here is the imagined plot in a few bullet points.

-Edward saves Bella

-Bella is confused

-Bella meets Jacob, who tells her Edward is a vampire

-Bella thinks Jacob is crazy

-Edward confronts Bella

-Edward stalks Bella

-Bella is creeped out

-Bella asks Jacob for help

-Jacob kills Edward

-Bella goes to the dance with Mike

-Bella lives a normal life

-the end

Anticlimactic, I know. I do not have the strength to sort though another page, and I'm honestly ashamed of the quality of this writing. Forgive me, please. 

-flakypie


End file.
